Rats of Tobruk on last legs

Now one of the last remaining 'rats' from the Second World War siege of Tobruk in Libya, Geoff Boyle recalls holding his deceased family friend in his arms on the battlefield before being shot in the stomach.

Each ANZAC Day, the number of remaining Second World War service men and women continues to dwindle.

It's something 92-year-old veteran Geoff Boyle has to get used to each year when he marches at the Tweed-Coolangatta memorial.

This year is no different.

When Mr Boyle made a commitment to regularly have dinner with other 'rats of Tobruk' and their widows 25 years ago, there were more than 80 of them.

Mr Boyle is one of just three left to attend their monthly tradition.

Labelled 'rats' by the Nazis, the servicemen embraced the name and later became known as the 'rats of Tobruk'.

Between April and August 1941 around 14,000 Australian soldiers were part of a battle to protect Egypt and the Suez Canal from the German-Italian army.

Mr Boyle says at one point they were told to destroy all personal identification and photos, as it was likely they'd soon be captured or killed.

"The Germans, if they got hold of them they'd know what units were there and who we belonged to and they could nearly work how many of any sort was there and what stage they were at in their training."

The siege brings back both proud and upsetting memories for Mr Boyle.

One morning they were sent off at 5am to cut off advancing German foot soldiers.

After successfully doing that, they decided to attempt taking one of the hills held by the enemy.

"We didn't account for the fact that they had machine guns, and we copped the lot and we lost a lot of men that morning, a lot of men.

"I lay down beside my mate, who worked with my father, he worked on our farm, to see if he was dead because I didn't want to leave him if he was wounded. The sergeant said 'Geoff don't stay too long because we're relying on you to keep the line straight', they were the last words he spoke. The next minute he was at my feet."

Mr Boyle kept on going and soon after was shot in the belly.

Shrapnel from that injury remains on his left lung today.

A feeling of obligation to march for his fallen friends each ANZAC Day is far stronger than any advice his doctor may have to do otherwise.